Leave Me Your Heart
by MountainAir
Summary: An alternate ending to Mockingjay, one where Katniss finally realizes that she can't live without Gale.
1. Chapter 1

Five months. That's how long it's been since I've come out of my house. The sudden freshness of the air surprises me at first, but after a few minutes I become accustomed to it, and actually appreciate it. After being locked up in my room for so long, broken and unresponsive, it feels rejuvinating to come outside.

I walk carefully, not making any purposeful eye-contact with anyone that I pass by. People look at me the whole time I'm passing through, and I can't really blame them. After the rebellion ended, I closed myself off from the world and everyone in it, lost in my own grief and pain. I would be lying if I said that I didn't lose myself in the war. My mother doesn't speak to me, I can't speak to Peeta, dozens of my friends have been killed, my sister has been killed...

That last one was the main source of my breaking point. I'd already been on the verge of crumpling to pieces, and losing her had been too much for me to bear. Her sweet, innocent face fills my mind and for a moment I almost turn back. I almost go back to my house, where I'd crawl back under my covers and try to pretend as if my heart wasn't shredded to pieces.

But there's only so much a girl can pretend. I'd know.

My eyes flutter back in the direction of the Victor's Village, but I tell myself sternly that I can't go back, not after the amount of time it's been since I've come out of there. I have no idea where I'm going, but before I know it, I'm standing infront of my home in the Seam. It somehow managed to survive through the bombing, and I'm thankful for that; it's one of the only places I have fond memories of. This is the place I grew up, before my father died, before I was forced to take over so many responsibilities, before I went into the Games... This was where I spent my time before my life was completely and irrepairably destroyed.

I take a few steps forward until I've reached the front door. I hesitate for a moment before pushing it open, but I do.

Everything is almost exactly as I remembered it. The furniture is still sitting in their places as they have for years, but now they're covered in a new, thick layer of coal dust. There are no lights on, and it somehow makes it easier for me. In the darkness I can't see the details of my old home. I can't see the scratches on the floor that I know are there, or the claw marks along the bedroom doors that Buttercup has left. Even that rotten old cat can make me start crying again, just because he belonged to her.

I bite my lip, but I can't stop the pained whimper that escapes me. I try to hold myself together for another few minutes, but I can't do it. Sobbing now, I run to the bedroom I used to share with her and cry until my eyes have run out of tears. It seems almost impossible, but after so many months, I feel as if I have almost no more tears to shed.

Eventually, my pain turns into numbness and I fall into a dreamless sleep. When I wake up, I'm still clutching her pillow to my face, breathing in her scent that still lingers there after so long. It's sweet and familliar, and makes my eyes sting again.

"Pull yourself together," I whisper to myself. But I can't. The people I loved the most are either dead or gone, and I have nothing left to hold onto. Once again I find myself wishing that my last conversation with Gale had gone differently.

"Was it your bomb?" I'd asked. I didn't want him to answer at first. Then I wanted him to tell me that it wasn't, and pull me into his arms. I wanted him to stay with me while I cried, and heal the gaping wound in my chest.

But instead, he'd told me, "I don't know. Neither does Beetee." He locked his gaze with mine. In his eyes, I was unable to see the boy I'd met five years ago, the boy that soon became my other half. He whispered, "Does it matter? You'll always be thinking about it."

I wanted to deny it. I wanted to tell him that we'd find a way to find answers, a way to see through this. But my tongue was tied, and the emotion locked up in my throat weren't allowing any kind of sound to escape me.

Gale swallowed and stepped back. He didn't yell or break down. He didn't even say anything. But I could see it in his eyes just how much my silence had hurt him. I wished more than anything that I could just tell him I was sorry, but I still couldn't speak.

He walked to the door, and looked at me one last time before murmuring, "Shoot straight."

I felt as if I was about to shoot the arrow through my own chest. That's how I'd felt. I listened to him walking out the door and down the hallway, and desperately longed to run after him and collapse into his arms, where I knew I'd fit best. But I knew I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it after what he'd done.

The more I think about it, though, the more wrong I feel. I've been living -if that's what I should even call it- as if Gale was the reason she as killed. Yes, he may have designed the bombs, but we can't be sure. And something I _do _know is that he wasn't the one to drop them. So how can I let myself feel so much pain over him, when he wasn't even the reason she's really gone? He didn't send her out to heal the children in the Square. He didn't tell them to drop the bombs. _He _didn't drop the bombs_. _I've been living in complete torment for months without anyone to hold me, and I could be lying here with Gale's arms around me instead of being along again. I'm sick of being alone.

With trembling fingers, I reach for the portable phone I was given in the Capitol that's still in my pocket, and dial Haymitch's number. His and Peeta's are the only ones I have memorized, but I can't bear to speak to Peeta, not after everything. I've tried talking to him, yes, but it never feels right. I know that he can never love he again, just like I can never feel the same trust and longing towards him that I once did. He's just another person close to me that I've lost permanently.

"Hello?" Haymitch answers. His voice is slurred, but I can still understand what he's saying.

"Haymitch."

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" By the tone of his voice, I can tell that he's actually concerned for me. I realize a moment too late that I'm still crying, and my voice most definitely gives that away.

I close my eyes and take a shaky breath before answering. "I need you to find me Gale's phone number."

He doesn't answer for a long time. The silence doesn't bother me. Actually, it gives me enough time to pull myself together enough to be able to talk normally again. After a few minutes, though, I start to wonder if he's hung up on me.

"Hello?" I whisper.

I can hear him sigh on the other end. "So this is the end, is it? Just going to give up on Peeta and go after your cousin?"

We both know that Gale isn't related to me in any way, but I still feel a burst of guilt at the mention of Peeta. I'd thought about staying with him, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I'm scared that he'll continue to hate me forever, and that it would have all been for nothing. I'm scared that all I'll see in his eyes is a strong longing for me to leave. My heart aches just thinking about it, because I've seen the look in his eyes, and I can't face it again. I'm not strong enough anymore.

"I have to," I say. My voice cracks. "I can't keep living like this. I need him."

"Well, I can agree with that at least."

I ignore the insult. "So you'll find it for me?"

I hear him shuffle around on the other end for a couple of minutes. "Alright, sweetheart. Just promise me that you won't leave Peeta on his own. You need to visit him from time to time. He still needs you, you know."

My heart constricts at the last part, but I nod and choke out, "I promise."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

In no time at all I'm sitting back in my home at the Victor's Village, a slip of paper in my hands. I stare down at it for a while, memorizing each of the numbers without even meaning to. They seem to be staring up at me, coaxing me to dial them.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. "Just do it," I whisper to myself. "Do it."

In a moment of courage, I pick up the phone and dial in the numbers. But as soon as I start to hear it ringing, I panic and end up hanging up again. I do this twice until finally, I force myself to stay on the line.

It rings once.

_Don't chicken out._

It rings twice.

_Maybe he won't pick up, anyway._

It rings three times.

_Deep breaths. You can do this._

"Hello?"

All of the breath leaves my body. It's him. It's definitely him.

After months without hearing him at all, his voice has changed. It seems deeper and older than I've ever heard it. But that doesn't matter to me now, because he's picked up the phone, and he's talking to me.

"Hello?" he asks again, this time impatiently.

I take a deep breath, in through my nose and out through my mouth. "Gale."

He seems to have lost his abillity to breathe properly, too. "Catnip?" he whispers.

"Yeah." I'm not completely sure if I spoke loudly enough for him to hear me, but that might be a good thing ~ my voice sounds completely broken.

He's silent on the other line, and in that moment, I break down. I start crying. I try to muffle it with my hand, but it just makes me even louder. My heart feels as if it's being crushed by a huge boulder, and my entire body is shaking. At first I think that it's from sadness, but with further inspection I realize that it's from anger. It could be all of my emotions coming back to me and making me go crazy, but all of a sudden I'm furious with him.

"H-how could y-you?" I sob. "How could you leave me?"

"Katniss, you know I didn't want to. I had no choice," he says. It sounds like somebody is squeezing the breath out of him, but I don't care. I'm too upset.

"No choice? I needed you! I needed you, and you left! You stopped fighting!" I scream.

"Please," he begs. "Stop."

I shake my head frantically. "I'm done, Gale. I'm done with everything. Maybe I should just... just..." My anger fades and I'm back to bawling my eyes out. I desperately needed him, and he left me alone. He stayed with me all those years, but when I needed him the most, he didn't follow. He left to District 2, where he was probably already hooking up with some other, more beautiful girl. Somebody who would treat him better than _me_: a broken, mess of a person.

I hear something on the other end of the line and realize that Gale is crying, too. I've never, in my six years of knowing him, ever heard or seen him cry.

"Katniss," he cries. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

We cry together. We cry for everyone who was lost, all of the relationships and hearts that have been broken over the last couple of years ~ seventy five years, actually. I cry for the innocent lives that have been taken, for the people who have died under my hands; he cries for Prim.

And eventually, when we've both run out of tears, he says, "I'm coming home, Catnip. For good."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Have a listen to Katniss and Gale's theme song: Let Me Take You There ~ The Plain White T's WARNING: You might cry.**


	2. Chapter 2

Gale didn't tell me when he'd be arriving in District Twelve. In fact, he hadn't even told me when he'd be leaving his new home. I suppose we'd both been too wrapped up in our pain to really think about it, but now I wish that we had. I wish that we'd made plans on the phone, because now I'm dying to know how much longer I'll need to be alone.

My arms are wrapped securely around my knees, close to my chest, but they still can't block out the aching. The heavy weight in my heart hasn't been released in months, and now it's starting to drive me to insanity. The feeling is like my heart is holding up a ton of bricks on its own, and it's struggling to stay standing. Struggling to keep fighting, because it's so close to falling that its hope is almost completely gone.

My hope was nearly gone, too. But my trip to the Seam had reignited something in me. Maybe it was a long-lost spark, or maybe it was just a feeling of having Prim closer to me, but it's reminded me of how I felt before she was gone. It reminded me of how my heart would start beating faster, my palms would become sweaty, and my face would twist into its familiar look of determination. This was how I'd felt when I had Prim to protect, when I had something amazing to fight for.

I'd though it was gone forever. But now, I have Gale to fight for.

Despite my burst of determination I'd felt a second ago, though, I start to feel myself trembling again. I can't stay here much longer, not without him.

"Don't worry, Catnip. I'll be there soon, and you won't have to be alone anymore." Gale's words pass through my head again, and my breathing becomes more even. I've been sitting here by the window for hours on end, just wondering when I'll be able to breathe properly again. My chest is still being squeezed, and the air that is supposed to be coming evenly from my lungs is coming roughly. It stings.

For a moment I consider going over to Haymitch's house and taking some of his alcohol. I remember how it'd felt to be drunk from the time after the Quarter Quell was announced. It feels like so long ago, but I can still remember the buzzing in my ears, the drowsiness in my head... Also the complete and utter simplicity of everything around me. I wasn't as scared as I had been an hour before; I wasn't as worried as I had been an hour before. My senses were hightened, but my emotions were clogged. It had been wonderful. Up until morning, anyway.

The thought is only considered for a second before I remember how much vomiting I'd had to endure, not to mention the horrible headache. And what if Gale had come here to find me like that, drunk and hungover?

No. It's out of the question.

So instead, I wander aimlessly through the house until I reach the couch. I hadn't realized it until now, but I'm actually exausted. It must be from everything that's happened today, and how different it was from the past five months. Either way, I fall into a heavy sleep almost as soon as I lie down.

_I'm lying in the Meadow. The ground next to me is shaded by the trees overtop of me, but I still need to squint my eyes away from the sun. It's blinding, almost more so than usual._

_I lie peacefully for a while, basking in the warmth and serenity of the afternoon. I think of mundane things, like singing and cooking and animals. I don't remember why, but it's been a while since I've felt this kind of peace, this kind of carelessness._

_"What are you doing?" The voice snaps me out of my reverie. It's angry and loud, and I look around alarmingly, trying to find the source of it. All I can see are the endless trees surrounding the meadow and the occasional forest animals crawling up and around them. I can't see anyone._

_Movement in my peripheral vision makes me jump around. My heart is beating uncontrollably now, so loudly that I'm afraid my attacker will be able to hear it. "W-who are you?" I ask, and am horrified to hear that my voice shakes. Since when am I, Katniss Everdeen, afraid of a stranger? This person has done nothing in the past to scare me, so why should I be now?_

_Once again, there's nothing in sight. Whoever this person is, they hide well. They must be jumping from tree to tree, trying to unnerve me. Unfortunately, it seems to be working fairly well._

_I clear my throat and try to calm the hot, boiling fear in the pit of my stomach. _There's nothing to be afraid of,_ I tell myself. But I'm not convinced, not with somebody out there, purposely trying to traumatize me._

_I close my eyes and clear my throat again. "Show yourself," I say fiercely. My voice echos loudly through the forest and meadow, making some nearby squirels scatter away._

_The voice doesn't answer. Instead, a knife soars through the meadow and before I have time to duck or defend myself, it's sliced clean across my forehead. The pain is immediate, sending rivers of blood down my face and into my eyes, mouth and nose. Blood is all I can see, all I can taste, all I can smell. Its copper, metalic taste fills my tongue, and I fall backwards onto the grass. Not a moment later, the air is shoved forcefully out of my lungs as a body throws itself onto me, holding me down in a tight bound. _

_I try to recatch my breath, but it's practically impossible with such a heavy weight on my lungs. I struggle and shake underneith my attacker, trying -and failing- to free myself. _

_"Give it up," the voice sneers. It's deep and rough, clearly one of a man. Somehow, in the back of my brain, I know that I know that voice. "I've got you, and there's no way you'll escape me this time."_

_The blood is still blocking my vision, but it's slid down my face enough that I'm able to squint up into the face of the man. My eyes widen and I gasp. "Ga-"_

_A hand slams down onto my windpipe, but it's too late. I've already seen the face. I've seen the strong jaw, and the dark hair and gray eyes. The unimaginable has happened: the person I trust the most in the entire world, my best friend, my hunting partner, has attacked me._

_"Stop struggling, _Catnip,"_ he mocks. I almost remind him that he's the one who came up with the nickname, but I refrain. My shock and pain from having him betray me is weighing down every other thing I may be feeling. Nothing else matters._

_He keeps talking, his hands covering my eyes so that I can't see him. "I'm going to kill you. Just like I did to Prim."_

_My heart drops to my stomach. After everything Gale and I have been through, I never, _never _thought he'd ever be so cold to me. He used to radiate heat and comfort, but now all I can sense is a coldness so sharp that it stings me everywhere our skin meets. Even with his hands on my eyes, tears start falling down my face, mixing in with the blood that still hasn't stopped coming from my head wound._

_I stop fighting entirely. Gale knows that he's hit a sensitive spot. Laughing cruely, he leans in closer and whispers again, "Just like I did to Prim. Just like I did to your sweet, innocent little sister."_

_I can't take it anymore. I scream and shove him off me with every ounce of strength I have left in me. He wasn't expecting it, so he flies backwards enough for me to get away. I try to run, but I'm not fast enough and he has me down again quickly. _

_"I never loved you, Katniss. Never."_

_And with that, he sets me on fire and my world explodes in agony._

I wake up to my own screams. I only hear the last few, but they sound torturous and awful, like I really did just experience the nightmare.

As everything that I just saw and felt came back to me, I fall back onto the couch and start sobbing into my hands, shaking and trembling all over. I'd thought that my nightmares of the Games were the worst anyone could ever experience, but I just may have been wrong. Even reliving the slowest, most terrifying deaths couldn't compare with how it'd felt to have Gale betray me like that, to leave me there to die a painful death - at his own hands.

I tell myself over and over again that it's just my lingering memories of being told that it was Gale's bomb that killed Prim, but I can't be so sure. We all know that it was really Coin's fault, but if he hadn't designed them, she never would have been killed that way.

_Stop it, Katniss, _I tell myself. _It wasn't his fault. Stop making everything worse._

I curl up into a fetal position - like I've done a thousand times in the past five months - and try to numb the pain that I'm so accustomed to. Sometimes it helps to be curled up so tightly, but in reality nothing can squeeze the pain out of my chest completely.

Suddenly the door is thrown open and Haymitch slumps against the doorframe. He sees me sobbing on the couch and his eyes widen, but only slightly.

"Everything alright, sweetheart?" he asks.

I don't answer. I just stare at him with blurry eyes as he approaches me. He looks down at me with sorrow in his eyes, as if he knows how I'm feeling. As if he's felt this kind of unbearable pain and guilt. As if he's felt the same undying knowledge that nothing will ever be better.

But then, I realize that he has. The Capitol has killed his family, too, and even the girl he loved. He may not be suffering the same way as I am, but he knows how I feel.

I jump off of the couch and am in his arms in a second. He smells horrible, like grease and alcohol and somebody who never bathes, but I don't care. He know how I'm feeling, like nobody ever has before, and he's always been here. Through everthing.

Haymitch pats my back awkwardly as I sob into his chest. He may not be the most comforting of all people, but he's all I have left.

Once I've calmed down a little bit, I pull away at wipe at my eyes. When I look up again, Haymitch is staring at me, looking more sober than I've ever seen him even though I know he isn't.

"I'm sorry, Katniss. I really am," he says.

It's silent for a while, me and Haymitch just standing near eachother, saying nothing and doing nothing. There's nothing left for us to say. We both know how it feels to have your heart ripped out by the Capitol, to have your life completely out of hand and torn apart.

After a while I realize that I haven't asked him why he came here. "So what is it you came for, Haymitch?" I ask. My voice doens't crack. It's monotone, like it's lost every bit of life to it.

Haymitch hears it, too. His eyes soften sympathetically, but I don't acknoledge the fact that he - along with probably lots of other people - must think I've turned into a mess. I have, and I know it. I won't deny it.

He takes a big breath. "Gale's train has arrived. I wasn't sure if you knew that or not."

I shake my head. I want to feel something at this news. I want to feel warmth in my chest, or excitement at his words. But I can't. My nightmare has shaken me up more than usual, and I feel nothing but dead inside.

Haymitch pats me on the shoulder one last time before walking out. He closes the door behind him, and I fall to my knees, my head in my hands.

I hear something behind me, but I don't look up. I don't know how long I stay there on the hardwood floor, breaking down and crying again. It's hard to keep track of time when the pain takes over, so I don't try to. I let myself drown in it, just like I have so many other times.

After all, what difference does it make now?

"Katniss..." I can hear a voice talking to me, but it seems far away. It's like I'm half-conscious and half-unconsious, all at once, unable to make sense of what I'm seeing and hearing. "Open your eyes. It's me, Gale."

This seems to be the only thing that actually registers with my brain. Hesitantly, slowly, I open my eyes. I can barely see anything through my tears, but I can just make out the dark hair and olive skin enough to know that it _is _Gale. He came. He's here.

Gale beckons me over, and I crawl into his lap. He lets me cry into the nape of his neck for a little while, rubbing my back and whispering reassurances. I'm not sure how anyone could find my gasping and choking in any way attractive, but he doesn't comment.

Usually, with Peeta, it took much longer for me to calm down. But this time my tears subside rather quickly and I'm able to get myself back under control. Maybe it's because I've run out of tears, or maybe it's just because it was never Peeta that I needed in the first place.

I take a few deep breaths and open my eyes. Now that I can really see the position Gale and I are in, I blush deeply. I'm sitting on his lap with my legs wrapped around his back, and his arms are holding me securely to his chest. From what I've seen in past experiences, it's a very intimate position to be in.

Ten months ago, I would have pulled away immediately and been embarrassed out of my mind. But after everything we've been through, nothing feels more right than being this close to him. Here with Gale, I can forget about my nightmare and what it had implied. I can forget about how detestful these past couple of years have been. I can forget about everything.

"What are you thinking?" he whispers. His warm breath tickles my cheek, and I tremble. Gale waits for me to respond, gently wiping away any tears that dare leave marks down my face.

"I'm thinking that I haven't felt this safe in months," I say honestly, sniffling. It's not the most romantic thing I could have told him, but it's the first thing that came to mind, and it's true.

Gale smiles. "I've missed you."

He leans his forehead down against mine, and his scent overwhelms me. He smells like the woods, and like home. Not this place I'm stuck in now after winning the Games, but my actual home back in the Seam before I was Reaped. He smells like familiarity and comfort. Warmth and soap. He smells like Gale, and it's the best scent in the entire world.

I breathe in deeply, momentarily forgetting that Gale might notice. Sure enough, he pulls away a little bit and gives me a strange look. "Katniss, are you _smelling _me?" he asks. His eyes are shining with amusement.

I blush again and look away. "No, of course not!"

He snorts. "Yeah. You're a horrible liar, Catnip, and we both know it."

I look up at him, at his smiling face, and feel something I haven't felt in months. A warmth spreading through my chest, all the way up to my face. It heats up my cheeks and pulls the corners of my mouth up so that I'm doing something I haven't done in what feels like forever.

I'm smiling.

**_XXXXXXXXXX_**

**_Sorry if that bore you guys to tears. Happy Valentines, everyone! It's the time for loooovveee, which means that I just might be writing cheesy love scenes pretty soon, like this one. _**

**_Review, please!_**


	3. Chapter 3

Gale picks me up and walks me to my bedroom. I would have offered to walk on my own, but I'm afraid my legs wouldn't be able to hold my weight on their own. Plus, I don't really mind being in Gale's arms. It's where I feel safest; where I feel happiest.

He opens up the door and steps into the room. I realize a second too late that my bedroom is a complete mess, something I definitely do _not _want Gale to see. The dirty clothes and debris covering practically every surface are not something I'm especially proud of. I take a wiff of the air and flinch. Even the smell is discusting.

I press my face into Gale's shirt, not brave enough to wait for his expression. It doesn't stop me from hearing his breath catch in his throat, though. Or the low groan.

"Katniss..." he says ruefully. My guilt blocks my throat and doesn't allow me to answer him. Gale shifts his weight and stands there for a few moments, until at last he decides to just take me to one of the guest rooms. Luckily I haven't havocked any of these rooms, so it's safe enough for him to walk into and set me on the bed.

Gale sits next to me for a few minutes, holding my hand and stroking my face gingerly. My breathing evens out quickly, and soon enough I feel relaxed enough to fall asleep. My eyes start to flutter shut.

"You need a shower," he says gently, startling me into reopening my eyes.

I blush. "Yeah. Sorry."

I get up from the bed and move towards the bathroom, embarrased at how unkept I must look to him. Before I can get to the door, though, he stops me and presses us up against the wall. I get my first good look at him in months. His hair has grown a little bit, falling in light waves infront of his eyes, but not so much that it looks uncared for - not like my own probably does. His skin is as perfectly unblemished and tanned as always, and his face seems more defined than the last time I saw it. Older and more stern, with stronger cheekbones. He looks tough, as if he's been through hell and back. I suppose that's what war does to you.

He looks at me the same way I'm looking at him, although I'm sure my view is a thousand times better. I haven't been brave enough to look in the mirror much lately, but I'm sure my eyes are red and puffy, my hair a complete mess, and my skin as burnt and rosy as ever. I'd expected Gale to see all the flaws I've been seeing in myself, but when I catch his eyes, they're filled with a strong and overpowering love - one that makes me feel more beautiful than I really am.

He lifts one hand to brush the hair out of my face, tucking it gently behind my ear. Our eyes stay connected, neither of our gazes wavering one bit. I can see every detail of his, the way the irises have darker specks of gray ontop of the lighter shades, the way his eyelashes curl up so much that I'm sure every girl wishes they were their own. I haven't gotten a look this close before, and now that I have, it's hard for me to look away at all. I'm frozen here without enough willpower to divert my eyes.

"You should go now, Catnip," he says, cracking a smile. "Hurry, though."

Right. That shower I was supposed to be taking...

My cheeks burning, I turn away from him and get into the shower. The warm water washes over me, sending a shiver down my spine with its heat. However, I don't mind one bit. The warmth is a distraction from everything, and gives me a few minutes to get my thoughts in order - or try to at least.

I'm extremely consciously aware of Gale's presence in the room next to me. It's as if I can feel where he is, despite the walls and loudness of the shower. I almost feel as if I should cover myself up more, or maybe lock the bathroom door. Never before have I had anyone walk in on me, but it's been so long since I've had somebody else in the house with me, and I'm less comfortable.

But at the same time, having him close to me is an intense relief. It's like when you're running for so long that you feel as if your lungs are about to explode, and then suddenly you're walking. My breath feels lighter; I feel like I have a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders, one that had been there for so long that I'd started to wonder if it were permanent. Apparently it isn't.

I stay in the shower for a good half an hour, letting the water rejuvenate me. I even throw in some flower scented soaps, just for the heck of it.

"Catnip? Everything alright in there?"

Gale's voice snaps me out of my absent-mindedness, and I stumble in the shower, slamming my hip against a rail. I cry out instinctively, and instantly regret it; Gale has heard.

"Katniss?" he calls anxiously, and starts to rattle with the door. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I call, desperately trying to reassure him before he gets the door open. "I'm fine, Gale!"

It's almost as if I can hear him sigh in relief, through the wooden door _and _the steaming shower. "Okay," he says.

I turn back towards the water and let it wash over me for a few more minutes. I haven't showered in what feels -and probably _looks_- like forever, so I'm happy to stay in here for as long as possible. The only thing that makes me step out is Gale.

I throw on some soft cotton pyjamas and walk out of the bathroom, wet black hair hanging loosely over my shoulders. Gale is lying on the bed when I come in, staring at the ceiling with a small crinkle of worry between his eyebrows. He clears his face of expression as I come into view, and sits up against the headboard.

I can feel his eyes on me, despite the way neither of us say a single word. In all of our years of friendship and trouble, Gale and I have hardly every actually spoken to get through to eachother; our silence has always signified more, and we'd always been able to see through so much more with just a quick catch of the other's eye.

This is what we do now, as I become more and more close to where he sits. Our eyes are locked; grey meets grey, tenderness meets shyness. His confidence is clear, but I can't meet his gaze without feeling a slight bit uncomfortable. I wonder how he can still look at me the way he does, with so much admiration and love, when there are disgusting scars covering my entire body. It's like he doesn't see what I really am.

"Don't look like that, Catnip," he says softly.

I come to a stop infront of the bed and look down at my feet, unable to meet his gaze. "Like what?"

"Like... like you're ashamed to have me look at you still, when we both know it's the other way around."

I look up, confused. "What do you mean?"

Gale takes ones of my hands in his and starts to stroke small patterns into it with his thumb, almost absentmindedly, as if he isn't quite aware he's doing it. "I don't deserve to be here. I don't deserve to be able to see you, and to hold you, and tell you again how much you mean to me. But I am, and it isn't right. You should be looking at me as if I'm just as much a monster as you think yourself to be."

"Gale..." I whisper, closing my eyes. I don't want to talk about this, not right now. Just for the night, I want to forget about everything that has happened, and just pretend that we aren't hurting as much as we are.

"No," he says. "You can't avoid this, Katniss, because we both know that - we both know -" Gale's voice hitches near the end, and he looks up at me through glistening grey eyes.

Suddenly, I'm not hearing the boy I've spent early mornings with in the forest, basking under the sunlight and learning to fight my way into survival. I'm hearing the boy from the phone a few nights ago, sobbing with me as he apologizes over and over again for a murder that was never really his fault. I'm hearing the boy who's heart is just as battered as my own, who's plans and wishes for the future are just as ruined as mine. I'm hearing Gale, the real Gale, for one of the first times ever - without the walls that have been so carefully placed up around him for so long.

"Gale," I say gently. Without meaning to, I lean forward and brush my fingers under his eyes, feeling the unfamiliar wetness of his tears spread over my skin. "You're wrong. It wasn't your fault; it was Coin's. You know that."

He shakes his head mutely, avoiding my gaze just as I'd done to him. His buttom lip trembles and he bites down on it. His actions are so uncharacteristic for him that I want to throw myself into his arms and hold him as he'd done to me, letting him cry and finally have a shoulder to lean on.

"It was, Katniss," he says at last. "They were my own creation."

I swallow. I'd never spoken to anybody about Prim's death apart from Dr. Aurelius, and that hadn't felt quite so personal. Gale is a complete other story. "It doesn't matter. You didn't know."

This time I don't let him answer me. Moving forward with as much bravery as I can muster in this moment, I crawl onto the bed and onto Gale's lap, hugging him to me as tightly as I can. I hear sniffling a moment later and lean up to wipe his tears away again. I hadn't realized that there were tears running down my face too, but Gale brushes them each away swiftly, like an expert. I close my eyes at the contact.

"Katniss..." he whispers, tucking his face into the halo of my hair. We stay like this for a long time, until eventually our eyelids become heavy and our bodies begin to droop. Carefully as to not jolt me, Gale lies down and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me tightly against his chest and sighing.

"Goodnight," he murmurs. I peek up at him through my lashes and gingerly stroke his cheekbone with my thumb. His skin is soft, like the surface of a flower petal.

"Goodnight," I whisper.

As I let myself fall into a dreamless sleep that night, I become aware that the constant, agonizing pain in my chest has completely disappeared. In it's place is a warm feeling of something I hadn't felt in ages.

Hope.

...

_Yeah, I know I'm the slowest updater ever and this is a crappy reward to you guys for waiting, but I'm sorry! I promise that I will update again, probably tomorrow. I just wanted this little bit up so that I could go to bed with peace in mind. _

_Review, please! :)_


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing I register as I'm waking up is warmth. Since my nightmares have started, I've been throwing off all of my blankets in the middle of the night and waking up in a cold sweat. But this morning, I am completely warm, just as I had been last night. I apprehend a moment later that it's because of the body laying underneith mine, arms wrapped securely around me - not only keeping me warm, but keeping me sane.

I lift my head weakly, still half-asleep. There's a slim ray of sunlight peeking through the curtains, and I can just make out Gale's sleeping form. His mouth is hanging open a tiny bit, and his dark hair has fallen into his face, blocking his eyes from sight. Gingerly, I bring my fingers up to brush it away. His long eye-lashes are casting dark shadows over his cheekbones, and his cheeks are slightly flushed with heat.

The sight is so beautiful and flawless that for a second I envy him. His looks are so rare, so uncommon, that it makes me want to cover my own face with my hands and crawl away from him. But even if I had wanted to, I don't have enough willpower to leave him. Not only because I desperately need someone to hold me, someone to comfort me and chase away my nightmares, but because he and I have something definite. I don't need to ask myself if I care about him. I don't need to ask myself if I can trust him completely. I do. I always have, and I always will.

I lay there for a while, my face tucked under his chin and my arm draped across his chest. With my ear pressed against his collarbone, I can easily hear his heartbeat - strong and unwavering. I count them in my head, smiling slightly as the numbers and constant _thump, thump, thump_ in my head clear away any lingering negativities.

Gale stirs under me just as my eyes are fluttering shut. "Mm..." he mumbles. I glance up at him to see his eyes focusing on me. He smiles. "Hey."

The way he's looking at me brings a blush to my cheeks. "Hey," I say quietly.

Gale turns over suddenly so that his body is covering mine, instead of the other way around. My breath hitches in my throat, despite the arguments I've been having with myself in my head lately, telling me not to fall so easily into him. Just as suspected, though, all self-control flies out the window as soon as he becomes close to me like this.

I swallow.

"Catnip, you're getting out of the house today," he says.

My voice comes out squeakier than I would've liked. "I am?"

Gale's eyes glisten with amusement. "Yep. I'm taking you out, somewhere we can forget about everything. We both need it."

"W-where?" I ask.

Gale raises his eyebrows questioningly at me. "Did you really have to ask? We're going to the woods."

He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and really, it had been. He understands me enough to automatically know that going hunting is exactly what I've needed, all along. Even if I hadn't realized it myself.

Gale watches my expression carefully, a small smile etching itself onto his face. I don't hesitate.

"Let's go."

* * *

The walk through town was quiet. Gale and I kept close together, and once or twice I caught his fingers twitching towards mine, looking as if he wanted to take my hand. I wanted it too, but I wasn't ready just yet; I needed some more time to adjust to being with Gale again, before I get into anything like that. No matter how much I want it.

As we walk by the bakery, my heart begins a painful thudding. Peeta's face appears in my head, and without realizing it, I cringe away from Gale. There's a strong aching in my chest, familiar to me since the hijacking - since Peeta was taken away from me.

"Katn-?" Gale starts. His eyes widen slightly as he moves them over to follow mine. "Oh."

I lick my lips hastily, my mouth feeling dry with sorrow. "I'm fine."

But I'm not.

I tear my eyes away from the bakery, unable to help the stinging feeling behind my eyelids.

"Katniss," Gale says softly, coming up behind me. I lean back into him, trying to draw comfort from having him close. I bring my hands up absentmindedly to squeeze my chest, giving futile attempts to make the pain go away. It doesn't work.

I whimper softly, then turn away from Gale and start sprinting down the street. I become farther and farther away from the bakery, from the memories, with each panting breath, so I don't stop running for what feels like ages.

People stare as I go by - some in annoyance when I almost hit them, some in shock at seeing the Mockingjay, and some in sorrow at the expression on my face. I'm still crying.

I can hear Gale calling for me, and despite being one of the fastest people I'd ever encountered, my speed is almost nothing compared to Gale's, especially when the pain in my chest is making it harder for me to get away smoothly. My lungs are burning, my eyes a watery mess. Obviously, it won't take much for Gale to reach me.

"Wait!" he yells.

I scurry under the fence that surrounds District 12, barely registering the deep cut I get from moving too fast through the metal. My breaths are hitched and gasping, and by the time I reach our rock, my head is pounding and the trees begin to spin around me.

Gale catches me as I tumble over, having just gotten to where I am. "Shh, shhh," he soothes, holding me tightly to his chest as I sob.

"P-Peeta," I cry. "He's gone. Gone."

Anybody else would have told me that he isn't, that he'll always be there for me. But Gale is different, and he _knows _that Peeta really is gone, that he'll never be able to hold me again without wanting to hurt me, or without hating me. It's just the way things are now. Gale, so brutally honest, would never lie to me. He pulls me tighter against him and says, "I know. Shh, I know."

This is the only thing that can soothe me now. I don't need any more lies; I've had enough for a lifetime.

I take deep, soothing breaths to calm myself back down, and then I'm able to wrap my arms around Gale's neck, pulling him closer. "Thank-you," I choke out.

Gale brings his face down to mine and kisses my temple slowly, making my heart start beating at an irregular pace and my face heat up. He moves his hands up to cup my face gently, and begins brushing away my tears with calloused fingers. I lift my face shyly, and our eyes meet. His gorgeous Seam ones are sad, but the way he is looking at me is immediately makes me think of the old saying, 'like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time.' I'd learnt it somewhere in school, and my father used to say it a lot, but I had never fully comprehended it until this moment.

Gale looks at me as if we've been apart for years rather than months, and he's just finally found me again. He looks at me as if he has just found what he loves the aboslute most in the world.

Wordlessly, he takes me by the hands and sits me down beside him on our rock. The familiarity of where we are almost makes me start crying again, but I manage to swallow my tears and look back over to him. The sun shines down onto him, just as it's done so many times before, and I expect to feel sadness because of how much we've lost since last coming here, since the day before the Quarter Quell.

But instead, my chest swells with something completely different. A sweet, tender yearning. A yearning to finally be closer to him, to love him the way I'd never expected myself to. But here, in this moment, I can't help but wonder how I'd never seen it before. The way we had looked at eachother when we hunted, before the Hunger Games, was more than I'd thought it to be. I used to shake it off as a deep friendship or a strong trust, but I had been wrong. We'd both been wrong. He'd just realized it sooner rather than later.

"Gale," I whisper. He must see the enchantment in my eyes, because his own widen with a barely contained elation.

He takes my hands in his and starts to rub soothing circles into my knuckles, just as Peeta had once done for me. But I don't let myself think about that, because I need to let myself forget. I need to let myself move on.

And it isn't too hard, being here with Gale.

The wind picks up and I can smell him. He smells like pine and soap, and I breathe in deeply, craving his closeness. "What are you thinking about?" he asks.

"I'm thinking that I want you closer to me right now," I say quietly, turning my face to the side to try and hide my blush.

Gale moves a little bit closer, his breath brushing over my bare shoulders as he says alluringly, "How close?"

I swallow. "Closer."

His face is merely inches from my own now, and he takes one of his hands away from my own to caress my cheek gently. "Is this good?"

I lick my lips nervously and shake my head.

"What about now?" he whispers, leaning forward and kissing my forehead. His lips travel down to my temple, and he plants another kiss there.

A deep shiver runs down my spine, and I somehow manage to say, "Almost."

His lips continue to move over my cheeks and jaw, seemingly oblivious to the trembles raking my body. "And now?"

"Almost," I breathe, my eyes closing.

Gale's mouth moves over to mine, but he doesn't put any pressure just yet. "Close enough?" he murmurs.

Unable to take it anymore, I grab a fistful of his hair and crush his lips to mine. He responds immediately, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling my waist towards him. Our bodies collide, and Gale moans against my lips, his kisses feverishly passionate. I feel the rest of the world evaporate, the smell of the forest leave my nose, as I become engulfed in Gale. He is all I can hear, all I can smell, all I can feel. He's everywhere, but somehow, I want him closer.

With a gasp, Gale pulls away. His face swims before my vision, and I feel a strong sense of dizziness. Nobody has ever kissed me like that. _Peeta_ has never kissed me like that.

Both of our breathing is heavy as I lean my forehead against his. I lick my lips and am still able to taste him on me - a sweet, mellow taste, like a sugary substance I'd had once in the Capitol, but a million times more pleasing. Amazingly pleasing.

Gale sighs. "I love you."

I open my mouth to say it back, but the words catch in my throat and I just end up coughing.

He leans down and cups my cheek in his warm hand again, forcing me to look up at him. I expect to see hurt, or even anger, but instead they're filled with amity, and oddly enough, appreciation. "I know, Katniss. You don't have to say it," he tells me.

I nod my head slowly, feeling a bit crestfallen at my own deadlock.

Gale seems completely unconcerned. Smiling, he takes me onto his lap and wraps his arms around my torso, his chin resting on the top of my head.

We sit there in silence for a while, until Gale says thoughtfully, "This is making me think of something."

"What?" I ask.

"Something my mother told me once, a long time ago. She said that if you love somebody and you set them free, they were only ever yours if they return to you. If they don't, they never were."

I turn around to look at him, my eyes shining. "I'm always going to come back to you, Gale."

He kisses me softly, his lips lingering on mine a second longer that I expected. "Me too, Catnip."

* * *

_A/N. That was unnecessarily cheesy, I know. Too bad. :D_

_Review, please!_


	5. Chapter 5

Gale and I stay out in the forest for the rest of the afternoon, lounging on our rock and staring up at the sky until our eyes burn with heat. Years ago we would have hated ourselves for spending a day like this, wasting perfect hunting weather, but today we couldn't care less; we're happy, and that's all that matters.

Eventually the sun begins to set and the wind picks up, sending rusty leaves flying through the air. I breathe in the sweet scent of it all. The pine, the dirt, the berries... They all come together to form my ideal smell of home.

"I could stay like this forever," Gale sighs. I turn my face towards him. His eyes are shut and his lips are spreading into a warm smile. He looks the same as he did when we were young, but yet so different, as if a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

I scoot myself closer to him on our rock, so that our shoulders are pressed against eachother. "Me too," I say softly. And it's true.

Gale wraps his arm around me and takes my hand in his, kissing it softly and pressing it against his cheek. His skin is warm and smooth, like a flower petal on a hot day. There are no permanent scars making his skin, no burns to constantly remind him of a terrible past whenever he looks in the mirror. His pain is cloaked under a perfect cover.

"Gale," I whisper. "How can I ever know what you're feeling?"

He turns his face towards me, confusion plain in his expression. "What do you mean?" he asks.

I stare down at our intertwined fingers, contemplating what to say. "You seem so put together. Even after the war, and losing so many people that we love," my voice cracks as the faces flash through my memory, "You can always turn back around with your head held high. I am a complete trainwreck compared to you."

Gale's smile vanishes. "Katniss, that's not true at all. You're a heroine; you've been through hell and back! What do you expect to feel like, to look like, after all of this? A flawless, unaffected girl?" I start to say something but Gale plants a hand over my mouth, cutting off my response. "You can't be who you used to be, Catnip. She's gone now. You have to stop trying to find her."

I close my stinging eyes and crawl onto his lap, my head resting on his shoulder. A single tear roles down my cheek. "I wish she were still here," I tell him.

Gale's arms tighten around me. "If she was, there would still be hundreds of people dying everyday for no reason. There would still be twenty-three children being murdered on live television every year. And there would still be two people hunting together in the woods, never telling the other how they really feel."

I lift my face to look at him, and find myself staring into deep gray eyes. "If she was, she would still have a sister."

This time, Gale has nothing to say.

* * *

That night Gale and I sit by the fire with warm bread and cheese. I would have usually had cheese buns with me, but over the last months I've never worked up the courage to visit the bakery, and Peeta has never worked up the courage to visit. My chest begins to ache and I let the thought drop.

We both eat in silence until we've finished, at which point I lay my head in Gale's lap with a long sigh. "Long day eh, Catnip?" he says.

I nod my head. "I haven't been out of the house in..." I try to do the math in my head, unsuccessfully.

"Don't even tell me," Gale groans.

I can't help but smile, but it quickly becomes serious. "I don't know what I'd be doing if you never came back, if I never called you."

He frowns and looks away from my eyes. "_I_ should have called _you_, Katniss. I was the one who needed to apologize. I should have never left you like that, when you needed me the most. I'm a complete idiot."

I roll my eyes but squeeze his hand reassuringly. "Gale, it doesn't matter. We both needed to apologize after the war. I've done worse things than you have."

"You did what had to be done for our country, for us to survive. I did what I thought would avenge us for the pain they've put us through. I didn't have to become such a monster. I can never make it up to you, Katniss, and I hate myself for it."

Gale's eyes have darkened just like I remember them to do when he's upset or angry. I've seen it happen hundreds of times when we were younger, when he would be angriest at the Capitol. It would usually happen around Reaping time or in the winter when things are hardest for us. He would storm towards our meeting place with his eyes dark and his face in a scowl, and he would rant for hours in his anger until I agreed with what he said. It wasn't hard to.

But this time is different. The same hatred is burning in his eyes, but it isn't for Snow, or the Games. It's for himself. He truly hates himself for what he's done, and with everything in him.

"Gale." My voice comes out as soft as feathers.

He still doesn't look at me.

I rub circles into his palms just like him and Peeta have done to soothe me on bad days. I can see him visibly swallow, but he still doesn't avert his eyes from the corner of the room.

Slowly, I stand up and tug on his hands. He turns his face towards me but doesn't look me directly in the eye. I don't mind, I just need him closer to me. I pull him up gently, and once he is standing I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into me. "I will _never_ hate you, Gale. And you shouldn't, either," I whisper in his ear.

He makes a strained noise in the back of his throat and for the second time in two days, I hear my best friend crying. I kiss his neck softly and run my hands up and down his back. We stay like this for a long time until eventually our legs begin to cramp and we are too tired to stay standing. Gale pulls his face from my hair and kisses me. It's a long, lingering kiss. One of the best we have ever shared.

And definitely not one of our last.

* * *

_Believe it or not, I have lots planned for this story now that it's the summer._

_Review please :)_


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